First Nights
by MegZ137
Summary: A study of how each new companion responds to their first night of sleeping on the TARDIS. From the perspectives of various Doctors from new Who. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them in my head.
1. Chapter 1 - Intro

Night on the TARDIS. Technically, there was no such thing, the Doctor reminded himself. He often made a point of educating his companions about this fact. Day and night are planetary concepts, related to one's relationship to an in-this-case-nonexistent sun and the rotation of a celestial body.

In the Vortex, he would tell them, trying to keep the hint of superiority out of his voice and failing utterly, there is no day, and no night. In space, any such constructs are imaginary at best.

And yet, has that ever stopped even one of his companions from wasting nearly a third of their life sleeping? Well no. Each new companion struggled, whether they realized it or not, with coming to terms with living away from a circadian rhythm and a cycle of lights and darks, went far too long without sleep, and eventually settled in to a cycle that very closely mimicked home – needing sleep roughly every 18 to 20 hours. The Doctor's mind boggled at the sheer amount of downtime.

No wonder humans hadn't made it any further than the moon.

The shorter-term struggle was no less pronounced. Eager or shy, intrepid or intimidated, if there was one thing the Doctor had learned over the years, it was that nearly all of his companions had difficulty adjusting to their first few nights on the TARDIS. Oh, most of them were thrilled to be there, he couldn't deny that. But almost no one settled right in and went to sleep on that first night. There was something about slowing down from the initial rush of adventure that seemed to bring crashing home to each person in their own way that they were far from home, literally millions of miles away in some cases, lost in time and space. Night time tended to make most humans feel their vulnerability in new ways.

He'd come to expect a few problems. They just each expressed it in their own way.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rose

R O S E

Rose's first sleep on the TARDIS didn't happen until she'd been running with the Doctor for nearly 48 hours nonstop. She couldn't help but keep going – the adrenaline kicked into overdrive the second he held out his hand to her and it didn't let up. It wasn't until the Doctor was lecturing about the birth and death of the star cluster they were observing outside of the open doors that Rose suddenly let loose with a yawn big enough to almost split her head apart, and the Doctor noticed that she was staggering on her feet.

"Rose," he said, "I think it's time you sleep. More adventures tomorrow."

"Don' wanna," Rose mumbled groggily, as he took her arm and led her across the console room and down the hallway until he found what he knewto be an empty room. With a pause and a silent word to the TARDIS, he asked the ship to set Rose up for the night, and was rewarded with a well-appointed (although somewhat fluffier than he expected) guest suite when he opened the door.

He saw her settled in, then gave her another brilliant smile from the doorway. "G'night, Rose. Let me know if you need anything. Don't sleep much, me."

She smiled back, flopping down on the bed. "G'night, Doctor.

Rose wanted to sleep. She was utterly knackered. And the room was lovely, all fluffy pink and white eiderdown and soft light. It was, undoubtedly, the most soothing and sleep-inducing room she had ever had the prospect of sleeping in.

So she was doubly surprised to find herself tossing and turning, for hours, before she finally swung the covers back out of frustration and sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Lights," she called out, just to see if it worked here like it did on Star Trek. Sure enough, the lights came on at a considerate low level. She was more impressed by that than she cared to admit.

.

* * *

He looked quite surprised when he found her in the kitchen somewhat later that night.

"Rose?" he asked. "Everything ok?"

She nodded sleepily, cradling a cup of tea in both hands. "Couldn't sleep."

"Still thinking about the end of the Earth?"

She shook her head adamantly. "No, no, it's not that at all. It's just…" She paused, unsure how to go on.

"What?" he said, a little more gruffly than he intended.

She blushed a little. "Just feeling a little adrift. I mean, where are we right now?"

The Doctor pulled out a chair and sat next to her, trying to understand. "We're nowhere, really. We're in the Vortex, both in and out of time."

"I know. It's just…" she frowned a little, trying hard not to sound too ignorant. "How does it work again? I'm here, with you, now. But I'm also in 2006. And I'm several billion years in the future watching the Earth burn up on a day when the real me had been dead for ages." She bit her lip. "It kind of makes my head spin."

He thought for a minute, concerned that perhaps he'd misjudged her and she wasn't up to this. How to explain?

"It's the way you're looking at time, I s'pose," he said. "You're used to looking at things in a straight line, forward and backwards, no jumping around." He looked up at her to see if she was with him. Her eyes were on his and she appeared to be paying rapt attention. "When really, time is more of a hopscotch. You can jump from one square to another, if your tech is right – forward three, back five, even hop over to the side and stand outside the board completely, just observing. Your life, as it were, has come unbound a little bit from the time you're used to looking at. But you're alive, and you're right here with me. Safe."

Rose thought for a moment and then grinned up at him. "It's like learning to ride my first bike. I feel a little wobbly."

He grinned back. "Might skin your knee a little."

"S'ok," she said lightly. "I'm tough."

"A scrapper."

"Yep. Just have to get my space legs."

He laughed. "Ok, enough deep philosophical questions. Think you can maybe sleep now? Because tomorrow – oh wow, do I have something good planned tomorrow."

He was heartened by the way her eyes lit up. "What? What? Tell me?"

"Nope. No hints. All I'll say is that there will be dressing up." He stood and held out a hand to her. "Now please, get some sleep so you can maybe appreciate my brilliance more fully in the morning, ok?"

He was pleased to note, when he checked in on her an hour later, that she was sprawled out and fast asleep. He stood for a moment, watching her, trying to puzzle out his reaction to this girl. He was surprised at how much he already wanted her to stay. There was something about her he couldn't put his finger on – for being so young and inexperienced, she had a spark that moved him, reached something in him. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time – like he needed someone.

It made no sense. He was the Doctor. He didn't need anyone. Not anymore.

Shaking his head in frustration, he walked away and let her sleep.


	3. Chapter 3 - Jack

J A C K

After the blowout of the nanogenes, after being berated to within an inch of his life by the Doctor and then somewhat redeeming himself by disposing of the bomb, after finding himself rescued and welcomed (openly by Rose, begrudgingly by the Doctor) into the most amazing and astonishing ship he'd ever encountered, after the surprise of dancing and the not-so-surprise of getting a stern warning from the Doctor of the rules of life on the TARDIS ( _don't mess with the ship, don't mess with Rose, don't con, don't lie, go to bed_ ), Jack was, without a doubt, utterly reeling.

Rose, he knew, could tell. She guided him down the hall a few turns away from where he noted her room to be, helped him find a spare but serviceable bedroom of his own, and wished him good night with a kiss on the cheek. She looked like she wanted to say more, but she wisely left him to his own devices to begin figuring things out.

Jack looked around. His room was small, almost monk-like. One small twin bed, metal frame. One small cabinet for clothes. A chair and desk, simple and spare. No obvious decorations on the wall. Soft light glowing from one lamp. Bathroom across the hall. It was efficient, and simple, and suited him just fine for now.

The only problem was he had no interest in sleep.

He had just been caught running a con on a man who, it turned out, was some kind of immensely powerful alien with a ship that had shattered all of his expectations about technology, a man who he could tell didn't fully trust him.

He was, he assumed, just here for the night, likely to be dropped off the next day at the spaceport of his choice. And if that were the case, he'd like to get a better look at the ship first. He stowed his duffel under the bed, freshened up just a little, and set off down the hallway, attempting to be quiet.

He paused in the doorway of the console room and just marveled in what he saw. The lights had been lowered and everything was lit in a green and golden glow. The rotor thrummed quietly and a quiet hum surrounded him. He found himself drawn towards the console, running a light hand over various buttons and levers, patting a strut, tracing an admiring finger over a display or two.

"Going somewhere, Captain?" The Doctor's voice was icy cold, and Jack was irritated with how visibly he jumped.

"No," he said, pasting on a charming grin. "Just admiring your ship. She's a beauty."

The Doctor eyed him with open suspicion. "That she is. Still doesn't explain why you're sneaking back out here in the middle of the night."

Jack sighed. "I'm not sneaking. It's just…" He tried to find the right words. "You don't have any reason to keep me around. I'm fit to assume that you'll be dropping me off at a space port first thing tomorrow. Just wanted to have another look at this amazing technology before I go."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Well, I don't sleep much," Jack said, deciding to be truthful. "Not lately, anyways." He saw the Doctor take a closer look at him with that remark but he had no intention of further revealing anything about the nightmares his work in the Time Agency had left him with. "And honestly, I knew I couldn't touch anything if you were around in the daytime, so why not?"

The Doctor harrumphed. "Don't want you touching her now, either, as a matter of fact."

Jack held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay," he said, conciliatory. "You win. I'll just go back to my bunk then, sound all right?"

The Doctor nodded. Jack bit back his annoyance at being treated like a pickpocket caught sizing up suit jackets, and turned to go. He'd almost reached the hallway again when the Doctor called out.

"Captain – "

Jack turned around, heart pounding in spite of himself. "Yeah, Doc?"

"Don't call me Doc. And I was wondering – you play chess?"

Jack grinned. "With a vengeance, actually."

The Doctor considered him in silence for a moment, then nodded, more to himself than to the other man. "Well if you really don't sleep," he said, voice approximating something a little more on the friendly end of gruff, "then come with me."

He headed off to the library. Might as well keep an eye on his new castaway while delving a little further into what made this man tick.


	4. Chapter 4 - Martha

Martha, as a medical student, was a huge fan of taking meticulous notes. She believed in classifying, sorting, categorizing, and in observing her subject to help her understand and, ultimately, conquer it. Whenever she had a problem she couldn't immediately grasp, she would study it in painstaking detail until she knew it better than she knew herself.

Her initial impression of the Doctor was that here - _here_ was the subject of a lifetime. She had been with him now for several days, both in the Royal Hope Hospital, and later in 16th century England. They'd spent one night in Shakespeare's London, awkwardly sharing a tiny bed, before she ever got the chance to settle down into a proper bunk in the TARDIS, and honestly she hadn't thought she would ever really sleep on the ship since all she'd been promised was one trip.

When they came back from the Globe, though, the Doctor suggested that she get some rest, and she took him up on it. He led her to a room that contained some minimalist furnishings, bid her a distant good night, and disappeared quickly into the heart of the ship.

Martha took a moment to stretch – and to somewhat girlishly throw her arms out and spin around in the center of the room because heavens, she was in SPACE, thank you very much and how often does a girl get to have a bedroom on a spaceship?

It was on making a more careful tour of the room that she discovered a lovely writing desk with several blank notebooks, all creamy, high quality paper with both blank sheets and graph paper, and a jar full of lovely pens. She pulled out the chair and set to work.

 _Day one observations_ , she wrote. _Subject appears to be humanoid in form, from what can be observed, except for what appears to be a binary circulatory system. Suspect CPR for total cardiac arrest would require stimulation of both hearts simultaneously, although not observed in the field. Body temperature appears to be somewhat lower than humans. Pupils appear equal and reactive in the expected manner to which one is familiar…_

She continued writing long into the night, quitting only when her eyes became too tired to focus, at which point she carefully tucked away the notebook in the pocket of her coat and curled up on top of the sheets for a quick nap.

This was going to be the study of a lifetime, she thought to herself as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5 - Donna

Donna came with luggage. This was a first for the Doctor, who was used to his companions joining him on more of a spur-of-the-moment basis. Donna, however, came with multiple suitcases. And also with hats. And a healthy dose of cynicism that bordered on suspicion. He could hardly blame her. Her world had, for all intents and purposes, been turned upside down in the past several days. All things considered she was handling it remarkably well.

He showed her to a room, which they discovered was decked out to the nines in the style of a fancy hotel. Large four poster bed, fluffy white duvet, thick rug beneath their feet, and even a robe. Donna made delighted noises and eagerly looked around.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll leave you to get settled in, then." He turned and headed for the door.

"Does the door lock?" Donna asked him pointedly.

"What?" He spun around to face her.

"The door to my room," Donna said, hand on her hip. "Does it lock?"

"Well yes," he said, befuddled. "But there's no need to worry about it. There's no one here except you and me."

Donna looked at him for a long beat, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh for goodness sake," he said, catching her meaning. "I told you! I meant I wanted _a_ mate. I have no interest in – oh forget it. Yes the door locks." He demonstrated the mechanism to her and stalked out. No need to tell her that he could always enter any room on the ship if he truly needed to.

Not that he planned to, anyways. He still wasn't quite sure what he had been thinking, asking this one on board. She was loud and brash and all around infuriating, half of the time. He wasn't sure that they wouldn't kill each other by the end of their first week together.

He was bemused to note that Donna, for what it's worth, slept like a baby. The only one of his companions to date to settle right in and make it through their first night as if they were safe at home.

 _Who would've figured_ , he thought to himself.

Maybe he should tell them all to lock their doors.


	6. Chapter 6 - Amy

Most of the Doctor's companions took a few days after they arrived to work up the nerve to wander around on their own, appropriately awestruck and nervous about getting lost. Amy, however, set off almost immediately, the very night they returned from Starship UK. He sat in the library and listened to her clanking around, touching things, opening doors, generally wandering.

 _Not shy, this one,_ he thought, filing this piece of information away with the data he was still gathering on his feisty new companion. He hoisted his reading glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and went back to reading, certain that the ship would let him know if there was a problem.

It wasn't until the next morning that he realized Amy was missing. Well, not missing – she was clearly still on board, or he would know. What she was, in fact, was not present. He checked her room, he checked the kitchen and the library and the console, and then he was forced to acknowledge that she had most likely gotten herself lost, or locked in, or hopelessly turned around.

Grinning a little at the challenge, he straightened his bow tie and set off after her.

Forty three turns later, the TARDIS led him to a door that was temporarily illuminated by a soft blue glow, indicating that this was the place he was looking for. He opened it slowly and stepped inside, only to find a sculpture gallery, full of angular white pieces and dangling chimes he had collected in some former life.

Amy was curled up at the base of one of the statues, asleep, her long nightie and robe tucked around her and her flame colored hair spilling around her. She looked peaceful and just impossibly young.

"Amelia Pond," he said softly, crouching down to touch her shoulder.

Her eyes popped open immediately. "I got lost," she admitted sheepishly. "I finally gave up."

He smirked. "Well perhaps you shouldn't go exploring in the middle of the night on an unfamiliar ship. And oh, by the way, did I mention to you that she's nearly infinite? Pretty sure I mentioned that." He reached out and bonked her on the nose gently.

Amy yawned and sat up, then looked down in distaste at her clothing. "I've been wearing this for days. Can you get me back to my room for a shower?"

He held out a hand and pulled her up, and set about retracing their steps.

Might as well get that first rescue over early, he thought. Nothing breaks the ice quite like saving a new friend from peril.


End file.
